


Imaginary Friend

by Musical_Fanatic



Series: Little Heather (Heathers Ghost AU!) [1]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Ghost Au!, Ghost Heather Chandler, Imaginary Friends, Poisoning, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mild charcter death, veronica's child, years after high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-01 04:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musical_Fanatic/pseuds/Musical_Fanatic
Summary: “Yay! Mommy’s home!”She giggled. “Yes I am, sweetie.” She knelt down and hugged her. “Did you have a good day at school?”“I did, Mommy and guess what?! I made a new friend!""Oh, sweetie!" Veronica beamed. "What's their name?""Heather! Just like me! And she gave me this scrunchie." The toddler held up the bright, red scrunchie. The same one she took from Duke years ago. The same one that graced the blonde curls of the “Mythic Bitch” of Westerburg High. The same one that was on her wrists when she died.Veronica's body went cold as she felt that familiar cold presence around her.based off a heathers headcanon





	Imaginary Friend

**Author's Note:**

> i've been wanting to write this headcannon for a while now so....
> 
> as always prepare for bad writing :3

[the headcanon](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/157837161921373588/?lp=true)

September 1st, 2000.

It was a normal day in Seattle, Washington, and like any other normal day, 29-year-old Veronica Sawyer is driving home from work.

Yes, the Westerburg graduate had settled down in life, especially considering the traumatic events of her senior year. The triple "suicides", JD's goodbye, the endless nights she spent being kept up by her inner demons and nightly terrors. She was more than happy to walk that stage and to never look back ever again. She felt as if her life was complete: finishing college, a good-paying job, and a wonderful lawyer husband.

JD would really be proud of that last part.

 _"Urgh! Why are you still thinking about him?"_ Veronica slammed on the brakes as she pulled into her driveway, almost throwing herself out the windshield.

Her breath pacen. Her palms became sweaty. The world started to fade away into blackness and all that was left in front of her was the image of Heather Chandler, drinking the poison. Veronica wanted to reach out and yell no, but it was too late. The glass mug fell as Heather's throat slowly dried, silencing her screams. She clenched it her eyes becoming glass and her body gave up the will to live and _CLASH!_ onto the glass table.

 _‘Come on Veronica! Pull! It! Together!’_ She breathed steadily in and out, trying to bring herself back to reality.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was back in her driveway, everything it’s plain state as it was when she left it.

Walking in the door, she took her coat off, putting it on the hanger. She breathed out, taking in the relaxation her walls gave her. Little pattern of feet could be heard running towards her.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Hearing those words made Veronica’s heart fill with love. This child had brought her so much happiness and joy, a little light in her dark world. “Yay! Mommy’s home!”

She giggled. “Yes I am, sweetie.” She knelt down and hugged her. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“I did, Mommy and guess what?! I made a new friend!"

"Oh, sweetie!" Veronica beamed. "What's their name?"

"Heather! Just like me! And she gave me this scrunchie." The toddler held up the bright, red scrunchie. The same one she took from Duke years ago. The same one that graced the blonde curls of the “Mythic Bitch” of Westerburg High. The same one that was on her wrists when she died.

Veronica's body went cold as she felt that familiar cold presence around her.

“Veronica, what’s wrong?” The latter looked up from her daughter and saw her husband, dressed in a pink frilly apron. She wanted to laugh at the sight, but was too shocked with what was front of her. “You look like you’d seen a ghost.”

 _‘If only you knew how true that was.’_ “I’m good, Donnie.” She walked towards him, giving him a kiss.

“Eww! Mommy and Daddy kissed!

“Heather, go finish your homework while Mommy gets situated.” The couple watched the little girl bounce back to her room, yelling for Heather to follow her.

Veronica flinched.

“I know you were triggered when she said that.”

“I know…. It’s just so… weird…”

“Yeah..” He went back into the kitchen, “Hey! I’m making your favorite.”

“Spaghetti and oregano?” She smiled, following him in.

“Yep.” They shared another kiss as Veronica went to the bedroom.

As if on cue, the cold air returned.

She laid her bag on the bed and turned around.

The ageless spectre stood in front of her. Unkempt blonde curls, the same red kimono, soulless, sunken eyes, and the line of blue drain cleaner coming from the corner of her mouth.

“Heather.”

“Veronica.” She growled.

“What the _FUCK_ have you been doing with my daughter?!”

“Be quiet or she’ll hear you.” She smirked, her apparent snobby attitude never dying. “Life is boring for me. _You_ should know that considering you were the one that took life from me.”

“Now hold on! That was JD-”

“Shush! Listen to me,” She walked… floated… towards Veronica, putting a cold finger to her lips. “I’ve always wanted a family. My parents spoiled the shit out of me and didn’t really give me what i actually wanted. I would’ve never said it out loud, but i was a lonely person. The fame and popularity gave me meaning, even after death. But when you graduated, I longed to see where everyone was after school. Meeting Heather made me realize how lonely I truly was, even with Kurt, Ram, or god forbid JD.” She sounded sincere, something she never sounded like when she was alive. The wanting and sadness was evident in her voice. “Little Heather is the daughter I never had.”

Veronica was quiet. Should she let the girl that caused her so much anger, watch and play with her child? Her motherly instincts told her no, Heather should leave Heather alone, but her morality came into question. Was she to deny someone who wanted a friend that friend in question?

“Fine.” She huffed. “You can ‘play’ with Heather. But give me this.”

“Give you what?”

“Give me hope knowing you won’t tell her about everything from Westerburg. JD. Kurt. Ram. I swear if she starts asking me about Ich Luge, I’m spreading holy water over the house!”

“Fine! I’ll give you solace. I won’t tell her about any of that.” Heather turned to walk out the room, but stopped. “But she’ll have to learn eventually. She’ll learn about the Westerburg Class of 1990 and realize who her imaginary friend really was.” She dispersed into thin air, taking the cold with her.

The the room a few doors down, Little Heather sat at her table, coloring a picture.

Chandler appeared over her shoulder, looking at what she thought was a pile of scribbles.

“Heather!” She showed her the picture. “Look what I drew!”

Chandler could see three badly drawn stick figures. One was had brown hair and blue clothing; obviously Veronica. Beside her was a body with also brown hair but a pink apron; her dad, most likely. And on the far right was a person with blonde hair, a red dress and bracelet, with blue in a corner of her mouth. Unlike her parents, this figure had a smile.

“Is that me?” She pointed to the aforementioned figure.

“Yes!” She smiled, before getting up. “Imma go how Mommy and Daddy!” She ran out the room.

Heather smiled watching the four year old leave the room, before another one entered.

She turned around and saw JD.

Even in the afterlife, he was still dressed in that black trenchcoat. His brown, swept hair matted and his skin scuffed with dirt and blood. His hand was still bloody, the dirty bandages still wrapping it. The bomb was still strapped to his chest, it’s timer forever set at zero.

“Hello Jesse James.”

“Salutations Heather.” He limped towards her, the bullet etched in his side for all eternity. “How was your little playdate with Little Heather?”

“Pfft! Why do you care?”

“All I wanna do is talk okay. It’s been about eleven years.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you eleven years ago and I still don’t now.” She started to walk to the door, disappearing in front of the closed surface.

Inside the attic, Veronica ran in to find an open box. She saw newspapers spread around it, her class yearbook open to the memoriam page for Heather, her diary open to the page that said: I understand that I must stop Heather. She hunted through it, finding swatches, croquet balls and Big Fun tees.

At the bottom of the box, she found an empty space that would’ve shocked her, had she not already knew where it was.

The ionic red scrunchie was gone.

And it was around her daughter’s wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> i might make a sequel to this :3
> 
> as always you can follow me on tumblr: ella-rasei
> 
> feel free to critique and comment :)
> 
> have a nice whatever current time of day it is :3


End file.
